


ripped at every edge (but you're a masterpiece)

by FreshBrains



Series: Femslashficlets Mini Fics [11]
Category: Jessica Jones (TV)
Genre: Community: femslash_kink, Community: femslashficlets, Dom/sub, Dominant Claire Temple, Established Relationship, Explicit Consent, F/F, POV Jessica Jones, Submissive Jessica Jones, Subspace, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 20:38:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6625348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshBrains/pseuds/FreshBrains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s nothing casual about what they do, about how this relationship works.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ripped at every edge (but you're a masterpiece)

**Author's Note:**

> For the DW Femslash Kink Meme 2015 prompt: [Jessica Jones: Jessica/Any, Jessica in subspace](http://femslash-kink.dreamwidth.org/15813.html?thread=2427589#cmt2427589) and for the DW Femslashficlet's prompt #056: [domination/submission](http://femslashficlets.dreamwidth.org/77476.html).
> 
> Jessica's past trauma and eventual PTSD at the hands of Kilgrave is mentioned but is not explicit.

“Jess? You have to tell me your safe-word, or we’re stopping _now_.” Claire’s voice is strong and firm; it’s a voice Jessica is starting to marry with the idea of a good kind of pain and a new kind of pleasure.

Jessica swears under her breath, earning her the last feeling she wants in this moment—the miniscule slide of Claire’s three fingers out from her cunt, only half an inch but feeling like the world. “I don’t—uh, _fuck_ …” There’s a tiny part of her mind that’s urging her to say it— _Birch Street, Higgins Drive, Cobalt Lane—_ but that isn’t what Claire is looking for.

When they play together, Jessica doesn’t need those words. She doesn’t need to ground herself, to remind her that the world around her is real and not going anywhere. But some instincts tend to stick like shit on her shoe.

She takes a sharp breath in, her mind clear, and says, “ _Stop_.” She opens her eyes.

Claire is above her, gorgeous, brown skin gleaming with sweat, her hair tousled and hanging in her face. She smiles, an intoxicating blend of pride and wickedness. “Good girl. Now, tell me where you’re at.” She’s perfectly still—Jessica hasn’t _really_ used her safe-word, it’s just a check-in, but it still holds power.

“Green,” Jessica says instantly, and her body clenches with anticipation. She’s already strung out beyond belief, her body at the tipping point of orgasm. “Green, _please_ , Claire, please…”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Claire says, and Jessica can practically _hear_ her smile as she slides her fingers back in, deeper this time, curling them against Jessica’s G-spot. “And here I never thought I’d hear you beg.”

“Rude,” Jessica says, but it comes out as more of a whine. She spreads her legs, arches her hips into Claire’s fingers, but Claire makes a _tsk_ -ing noise and withdraws them another half-inch, the perfect press of pleasure disappearing from Jessica’s cunt. It’s the most frustrating feeling when Jessica is so close, the tease of an orgasm, but it’s equally exciting.

“Hips down,” Claire says, shaking her head. “Let me control the show.”

Jessica inhales again, sharply, her breath catching in her throat. _Birch Street, Higgins Drive_ —no. She doesn’t need them. “You’re real,” she whispers, feeling her face flush the second the words come out. Of course Claire is real—she’s always been real. That’s never been a question.

But Claire doesn’t miss a beat. “I’m real. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.” She strokes her fingers down Jessica’s waist, her hip. She runs her free hands through the tangles of Jessica’s hair. “I’m right here, Jones.”

Jessica likes that, the way Claire calls her by her last name, the casual affection of it. There’s nothing casual about what they do, about how this relationship works, but it’s still nice. Jessica feels her body melt into the bed, hips falling back on the mattress. That swell of arousal builds in her gut, steady and warm, as Claire slips her fingers against the seam of Jessica’s cunt, collecting the slickness. Her thumb grazes the swollen bud of Jessica’s clit, and this time, they both groan in unison.

“I want to fuck you,” Claire says plainly, that gorgeous voice gone an octave lower. Jessica squirms, trying for more pressure, but doesn’t arch her hips. She likes obeying Claire. It’s submission, but not without give or take, push and pull. Not without mutual sacrifice and satisfaction. “I’m going to fuck you, Jones.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Jessica says, over and over again, and that’s all she needs to say.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Halsey's "Colors"


End file.
